


My New Career

by Sylvians



Category: Japan (Band)
Genre: Other, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 16:07:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8408023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylvians/pseuds/Sylvians
Summary: David apathetically gets a stranger off over the telephone because he had a headset in the video for Bamboo Music and ????????? That's it





	

**Author's Note:**

> A pal of mine said David's headset reminded 'em of a sex hotline operator so this happened.

"Thanks for calling 378-LUST. My name is Sylvia, how are you doing tonight?"

David leaned back into his uncomfortable office chair and absent-mindedly inspected the nail polish on his right hand. Small bits of red began to flake off around thumbnail. He'd have to fix it later.

"Me? Oh- I'm doing great, love. Just sitting on my four poster bed reading a novel. It's awfully interesting. What's your name?" he asked, scratching at the polish with his index finger.

His eyelids felt heavy under the weight of a particularly lengthy shift and even heavier makeup. A few seats away, he watched Richard mumble something awkwardly into his headset before pressing a button on the receiver.

"I like that name a lot. Has anyone ever told you you've got such a handsome sounding name? You don't think so? Well, I- What am I wearing?"

Without skipping a beat in his crisp white dress shirt, all ironed neatly with suspenders gently straining against his shoulders, he drew his lips into a thin smile before speaking again. His voice went a thick, dark sort of saccharine.

"A sheer, red lacy teddy with matching knickers. So sheer it's almost completely transparent. Stockings, too. And patent red heels. Do you like it?"

He hated when callers deliberately skipped the small talk. When he got the chattier ones, it wasn't difficult to rack up a pretty nasty bill by the end. David learned very soon to choose his words carefully, prolonging his calls to squeeze every last second from the naive man on the other line.

Still, he persevered.

"Oh, you like it? I'm so glad you do, love. It really doesn't leave much to the imagination, does it?"

He glanced over to the painfully slow ticking clock, dangling rather haphazardly from a nail in the wall. It was a little after midnight and he stifled a yawn, fantasizing about turning into a pumpkin.

“Are you really, now? That sounds so sexy. And there’s nobody else around? I like that.”

David found that parroting the caller’s last few words in a breathy voice tacked a few valuable seconds onto the bill. They added up quickly and were usually too stupid with lust to notice.

“So, tell me. If you were here with little lacy me on this great big bed, you just wouldn’t be able to keep your hands to yourself, would you? Is- is that so? You dog.”

His syrupy-sounding words were so coy coming from a face so blank. He pressed his hand against his headset and leaned forward a bit, resting his elbow on the desk. An audible rustling came from the other line.

“Well, what if I told you that you weren’t allowed to touch me like that, hm? If I told you you’d have to wait?” David cooed with a raised eyebrow, twisting the cord of the headset around his fingers. “I’m sure you would. Now, you know I’m not a very strong man, but I can guarantee I could get you on your knees.”

He rolled his eyes while he listened to the caller babble on, turning his attention back to his chipped nail polish.

“What? You don’t believe me?” David went on, quietly reaching into his desk cabinet for a bottle of polish remover and some cotton balls. “I bet I could have you under my foot, licking my shiny red heel. Someone like you- I’m sure you’d love it.”

He involuntarily winced at the sudden scent of acetone as he unscrewed the bottle, tipping it to the side a bit as he dabbed it with a cotton ball. Finally blessed with some brief quiet, he went to work on stripping each nail. The caller seemed to get more and more hot under the collar which, in turn, meant less work for him.

“Mm, tell me. Tell me what you’d do to me, love. Show me how big of a man you are,” David whined, his voice slightly raising in pitch. He waggled his hand to dry the rapidly cooling liquid. “Wow. Really? I’d like that. What else?”

He dipped down into the cabinet again, accidentally brushing the microphone of his headset against the metal door. With a loud scrape, he came back up with a vial of bright red polish.

“Th- It was just me trying to get a bit more comfortable. You’ve gotten me so horny that I can barely keep still,” he huffed, sitting back upright. “Or do you want to punish me for fidgeting so much? Keep me in line?”

He twisted the lid off and began painting his index nail, letting out an amorous sigh as he moved on to the next.

“It hurts so good when you spank me like that! Come on, love. I want you to really show me who’s boss.”

As he began to hear the unmistakable sounds of skin-on-skin on the other line, he started on his other hand. The paint fumes made him a tad dizzy, but he carried on.

“Oh, god! I can’t help it, I’ve just got to touch myself now! I- ah, can I?”

He moaned as he flapped his hand a bit to speed up the drying process, leaning in every now and again to blow on his wet nails gently. Each quiet puff was followed by an exaggerated pant.

“Wow, you’re amazing at this! And so big, too. I can’t believe you fit that into my tight little hole,” David whined, making eye contact with Mick a few chairs down and cracking a grin. After his hand dried he painted the other, all the while whimpering and breathing shallowly. To him, the theatrics were the part that really made it all worthwhile. “I’m getting so close. I really can’t believe how good you are.”

The colour drained from Mick’s face as he watched David lean over his desk, his palms flat against the top so as to not ruin his fresh polish.

Yes, he was only acting. However, it still induced a fair amount of second-hand embarrassment and shame for anyone who had the fortune or misfortune to watch. David licked his lips and let his shimmery eyelids droop, furrowing his arched brows tightly.

“God, yes! Come on, more!” he said, panting. His pretty face soon contorted into one of mock agony- difficult to look at and even harder to look away from. Steve, he had been sitting comfortably next to the mumbling, flustered Richard, cupped his hands over his ears. “Harder! Don’t stop now!”

David gripped the edge of the table and let out an angry hiss and a curse when he noticed the smear of red from his nail to his fingertip.

“That was- it was nothing. I’m coming!”

He threw his head back and let out a long, high-pitched moan, followed by a soft little cry. After a moment of labored breathing, he plopped back down into his chair and cleared his throat.

“Yes, I- you’re very welcome, love. Your account has been charged. Give us a call again sometime. I’ll be waiting!”

After a quick push of a button, David lifted his headset off and set it down gently on the desk. He fumbled around in his shirt pocket before producing a pack of cigarettes.

“Mick, you’ve got a lighter on you, don’t you?” he asked, flipping open the carton and pulling out a cigarette. With a playful smile, he held it between his lips and watched Mick slowly plod over.

“Of course. I don’t know how you do it, though,” Mick said, leaning over the desk a bit to light the end. “It’s almost unnatural how natural it you make it seem.”

“Make what seem natural?” David shot him a questioning glance with a raised eyebrow.

“Don’t give me that, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Do I?”

“Oh, come off it. Maybe it’s just some sort of gift.”

David laughed and cupped his own chin with his hand, looking up at Mick from under long, mascara-caked eyelashes.

“Faking an orgasm for a stranger over the telephone is a talent now? Hardly as marketable as, say, a nice singing voice, I don’t think.”

 

 


End file.
